


Because it is Christmas

by PipsInkwell



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:14:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipsInkwell/pseuds/PipsInkwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watsons first Christmas post Reichenbach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because it is Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a couple of years back for FF but as its coming round to Christmas again I thought I would pop it up on here - Its set post Game of Shadows - I hope you enjoy :)

 

-~oooooOooooo~-

 

**Because it is Christmas**

 

The day had passed rather pleasantly, all things considered. The house was transformed, elegantly draped with garlands of green, red and gold. A magnificent tree stood in the corner of the lounge, festooned with sparkling trinkets. I had watched my darling wife the previous evening, face warmed by the glow from the fire, carefully placing each one.

We invited a small collection of Mary's family and friends to our new home to enjoy the festivities. Our cook, Mrs Avery, had excelled herself in the preparations for the Christmas dinner. Despite the dear woman's embarrassed protestations and several raised eyebrows, we insisted she cast aside her apron and join with us to enjoy the results. After all, there was a spare seat at the table.

When we had eaten until our sides ached I helped clear the dinner dishes and returned to the lounge, collapsing into my armchair. I sat quietly and observed the room. The familiar faces took me back to a day not so long ago when we had been gathered together for entirely different reasons. Subconsciously my eyes drifted to the empty space at my side. This was the first time in years I had spent Christmas Day without my most extraordinary friend. No matter how hard I tried and although the room was full of laughter and merriment, I could not escape a lingering empty feeling.

My face must have given the game away. As I lowered my empty wine glass and gazed lazily across the room, Mary greeted me with a sad smile. She knew of course. My beautiful wife always seemed to know. I let out a chuckle. It appeared I had exchanged my life with one detective for that with another.

I watched as she politely excused herself from a conversation with Great Aunt Maude, and gracefully made her way across the lounge towards me. She knelt closely beside my chair and placed a warm hand over mine.

'Are you all right John? You look a little forlorn.'

'I am fine my love'

I attempted to move my face into the most believably 'fine' expression I could muster. She was of course totally unconvinced.

'You miss him don't you?'

'Just a little' I replied.

She smiled back at me with such warmth and understanding my heart swelled. She seemed to know exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I required. I had found the events of the past month incredibly draining and she had been a rock. What had I done to deserve such a wonderful woman?

'If you want to go then I understand'

'But….' She gently held a finger to my lips, halting my half-hearted protest.

'Please John. Go. Take as long as you need. I will be here when you get back.'

I needed no further encouragement. With a smile I placed a soft kiss upon Mary's brow then slipped from the room practically unnoticed by our guests, who were all engaged in lively conversation. The hall was a welcome and quiet refuge from the boisterous excitement of the day. Slowly I donned my coat and hat. It would be cold outside. As I made to leave the house I was halted in my tracks by the shrill voice of Mrs Avery.

'Dr Watson! Wait!' She called as she approached clutching a bulging brown paper bag. 'Mrs Watson told me to be sure you took this with you'

Thanking her I opened the door and stepped outside.

After spending the majority of the day sat about the house I decided a walk would do me good. It was indeed bitterly cold, and the heavy grey skies over our great city had begun to darken. An occasional snowflake fell as I made my way through the quiet streets. I became lost in thought and before I knew it I found myself at the threshold of our old rooms at Baker Street. In contrast with my new home at Cavendish Place, which currently buzzed with warmth, light and laughter, the house at Baker Street stood cold and dark. I had been informed that Mrs Hudson was away for the holidays, visiting her cousin in Southampton.

For a moment a flicker of doubt crossed my mind. Had coming here today been such a good idea? Pushing the thought aside I drew out my old key. As the door opened and I stepped inside, I could have sworn I heard the sweet notes of a violin emanating from the rooms above me. But that was not possible. Was it?

Leaping up the stairs two at a time I burst through the door. The lounge was empty but the fire crackled in the grate and filled the room with a warm glow.

'Holmes?' I called, breathing heavily.

I heard a sound behind me and I turned to see Holmes stood at the doorway of his room, clad in his tatty old dressing gown.

'Watson!'

In a moment of impulse I placed the package on the table, stepped forward and embraced my friend.

'Merry Christmas Holmes!'

I breathed in his familiar scent. Instantly I felt myself relax. Yes. Just as I had thought. This was exactly what I needed.

It had been almost a month since our return from the Continent, but our adventures there still played heavily upon my mind. Often in my nightmares I was forced to relive those frightful events. Holmes lifeless body lain out before me, or the moment on the balcony at Reichenbach where I clung desperately to my friend and watched Moriarty fall to his death. If I had been just a few seconds later, how different things might have been! Why did I find it so difficult to shake off that terrible thought? I knew with time the nightmares would pass, but at present it was only when I was with Holmes that I could calm my fears away.

Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of the precious Stradivarius lying upon the foot of the bed. Ha! My ears had not deceived me, he was able to play once again. Remembering his shoulder, I reluctantly released him from my embrace.

Our eyes met. Clapping me on the back he treated me with a beaming smile.

'Always good to see you Watson!'

Together we crossed the room to our usual positions by the fire.

'We missed you at dinner' I said as I removed my coat and took my seat. He reached for his pipe and slipper.

'We have been through this Old Boy'

'I know Holmes but I still think you are being ridiculous. Mary wanted you there just as much as I. She was genuinely disappointed when you declined the invitation.'

'Hers is an unusual species Watson. I remain unconvinced. We must tread carefully, our future is at stake.'

'Stop being so bloody melodramatic. How many times must I re-iterate. Mary is _not_ the enemy. In fact, she has grown rather fond of you'

'She does not trust me Watson. She said so herself.'

'That was before'

'Before what, precisely? Before I threw her from a speeding train? Or before I stole her husband away for a romantic trip to Paris?'

'Holmes. Stop being so obtuse. It does not become you and it really is quite irritating'

I smiled inwardly as I threw an angry glare in his direction. After weeks of slow recovery he seemed to finally be returning to his old self. I could not be more relieved. It seemed it would not be long before everything was back to normal.

As I watched him puff away on his pipe the forgotten parcel caught my eye.

'Here.' I said, leaning forwards. 'This is from her.' He viewed it with suspicion. 'Don't worry Holmes, its not a bomb. Its your Christmas meal.'

'I can see that Watson, but what is this?' He reached in and extracted a beautifully wrapped gift.

I leant forward in my chair, my curiosity roused.

'I have absolutely no idea.'

I watched as he turned it carefully in his hands, prodding it with his fingers. Then he rose from his chair and moved to the table where he studied the wrapping under the lamplight. He raised it up and down, as if to gauge its weight, before holding it to his ear and shaking it gently.

'For goodness sake Holmes! OPEN it!' I exclaimed with growing frustration.

He slowly tore the paper away.

'It is as I had feared'

'What! What is it?'

He held aloft the offending article, striped in navy and maroon.

'Put it on.' I ventured, a smirk beginning to creep across my features.

'All right Watson, as you wish. But only because it is Christmas.' He drew the scarf about his neck. 'It appears we must face this together. How do I look?'

He looked completely ridiculous. I tried to keep a straight face but to no avail, and before I knew it I had exploded into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. It did not take long for my friend to join me.

 

-~oooooOooooo~-


End file.
